


Force of Attraction

by Fen_Assan



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Humour, Pre-Relationship, Romance, Slow Burn, Some angst, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-09-17 03:14:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9301571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fen_Assan/pseuds/Fen_Assan
Summary: Commander Shepard liked the turian agent from the start - with all his talents, he becomes a valuable member of her team.Garrus Vakarian liked the first human Spectre from the start - she has this "get the job done" attitude, and a wry charisma.It is only with time that both realise they like so much more about each other.A story of pre-relationship set during the events of Mass Effect, with very little focus on the game and lots of focus on the characters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first ME fic - and it started writing itself about half-way through my first ever playthrough (which I'm still eagerly finishing). I guess I needed to write something while waiting for being able to romance Garrus in the next game, haha. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy. :)

She was tired. Tired, and pissed. Both at herself for dragging them through this now, when they were getting closer and closer to finding Saren, and at this pirate scum, whose victims’ broken distress signal they intercepted. She was angry the moment she gave the order to land. 

More often than not, Shepard would not care to land on an obscure and quite frankly ridiculous rock - half ice, half slush on its surface - if it was only to eliminate some pirates. She had way more important stuff to deal with right now. But these ones were slavers, and that meant she would push her underslept and overtired self to wipe them off the face of this sorry little planet. The fact that trace methane gave its atmosphere the green hue which perfectly matched the colour of her eyes, was not so much amusing as irritating. 

Shepard drove the Mako as if in reflection of her own mood - trashing it about on the rocky parts, spinning when taking a turn on the flat ice, and finally - sloshing through the warmer and wetter areas, sending waves of slush all over the vehicle as they reached the deeper layers of Antirumgon's interior. 

Her crew - at least one of the members - grunted at her driving style throughout most of the ride.

“You know I’m not the one to be called careful. But sometimes I don't know who you want to kill more when driving, Shepard - the enemies you're hurrying to reach for daring to exist, the Mako for not being fast enough, or ourselves to just be done with all this shit already,” Wrex finally vocalised his displeasure. 

“Shut up, Wrex. Like you drive any better,” she bristled. 

“Define better.”

Before they could get into their habitual - although undoubtedly friendly - mutual insults, the third crew member interfered. 

“I believe I _can_ say “I do” to that question, Commander. Although it wasn’t strictly a question. With all due respect.” Garrus was polite as always - and also right. Shepard remained quiet, biting her lip. “I’ll be happy to take over if you want to take a moment to rest and focus.” Now this was even worse because she had no idea what to tell him. The part of her which would normally react to a similar statement from anyone else with her hackles instantly up - was silent. With Garrus, she believed his declaration of respect. And she believed he was concerned for her wellbeing. Be it for the sake of the success of their mission or for some other reason - she tried not to think about that. It was too ridiculous to think…

“Commander?” his flanging voice she found so soothing when he spoke to her, especially when a mission was not the topic of conversation, broke her thoughts. 

“On our way back,” she said finally, swallowing the unwelcome thoughts, which were rather stupid, unrealistic, wild imaginings, which were so uncharacteristic for her. “Thank you, Garrus.”

“Hmm. I wonder if you’ll be thanking me for tackling the next sod who finds himself behind your back, Shepard,” Wrex mused, “or of it’s just the turian who gets all the gratitude.”

“Ugh, you're such an ass, Wrex. Yes, I remember, and I do appreciate that time you saved my butt. There, happy now?” He was apparently not about to drop that case any time soon. The krogan only smirked in response. 

***

The pirate base was nothing impressive. Derelict-looking from the outside, it served as a clear sign Alliance Frigate patrols were doing their job: the blasted shells were scattered across the whole planet. But here, pirates had managed to salvage some parts to make a new temporary dwelling. It would not last long. Shepard did not have a habit of leaving any business unfinished, and in this case, she would only classify the mission as complete after the slaves were (hopefully) released, the walls painted with what remained of the slavers, and the base obliterated with a shot from the Mako’s mass accelerator cannon. She was good at aiming it. 

The inside of the base proved not to be a hard job. True, the pirates did outnumber Shepard’s tiny unit, but her squad was fast and efficient - it was amazing really how good of a team a human Alliance marine turned Spectre, a krogan battlemaster, and a turian agent made together. Besides, the pirates’ gear was rubbish, and they did not possess the weird combo of discipline and sheer wild force this particular choice of companions allowed Shepard. 

They cleared out most of the building, but found no intended slaves. The last unopened door had to be the one leading to their goal. 

Shepard hefted her Katana shotgun, pressing herself against the wall by the door, signalled to Wrex behind her to hold his position, and nodded to Garrus to start overriding the lock. He was done with it within seconds - a testament to his skill, or probably to the unexpected and uninteresting simplicity of it as he whispered himself. _Amateurs_ , she agreed, mumbling under her breath. _Or an ambush_ , a more pragmatic part of her brain suggested. 

Surprisingly, no one attacked them on entry. The space turned out to be a large-ish room filled with blocks which could serve as cover for pirates. Many many pirates. When they kept getting nothing every time they pointed their weapons behind a corner, she started to grow frustrated and angry - more frustrated and angry than before, that is. 

Garrus’ tech skills and nimble fingers (who would think they were from the look of them?) quickly opened a few crates, pocketing some medi-gel and a few random upgrades. It was all too easy, too quiet. 

“Be on your guard,” she whispered. 

“Likely an ambush,” Wrex nodded at what Shepard only saw was another door when she turned behind the crate the krogan stood next to. 

The final room contained more boxes arranged in multiple labyrinthine corridors. The three of them covered about half of it together before they had to split. Shepard saw an expression of discomfort and worry on Garrus’ face at that, but he respected her too much to disobey her orders, even if they were potentially dangerous for herself. She continued on her own, stifling the nagging thoughts about Garrus caring for her safety so much. 

The slaver she found through one of the makeshift corridors was human. The fact filled Shepard with disgust - not because she thought her own race so righteous, she actually knew better from her own experience and herself - but it somehow added extra unpleasant weight to the fact that she would undoubtedly have to kill him. 

The man was sitting at a desk, an assault rifle and a pistol within easy reach in front of him, but made no move to try and use any of them as Shepard appeared in his line of shot. 

Feeling the reassuring buzz of extra kinetic barriers generated by her armour, she stared at the human scum in front of her along the barrel of her shotgun. As he remained still - but for an ugly smile stretching across his ugly face - she tried to pry the information from him before ending his sorry life. There was of course a chance he had a grenade in his left hand which was hidden under the desk, or that a bunch of his buddies were just about to hit from the opposite side of the room. But she had Garrus and Wrex for that. If there had been any more pirates there, her companions would have found them by now. 

“Where are the people you're holding?” she walked slowly towards him, showing not a single sign of apprehension she felt being straight in front of him and without cover. 

“Aah! What is it I see? Another slave - and right on my doorstep, delivering herself. How truly nice of you,” he grinned, showing off a missing tooth. She would gladly smack his gob first to help him develop his choice of appearance further. But instead she kept quiet, and kept moving. The man leaned back lazily in his chair, a shotgun now visible in his hand. He held it without aiming. He clicked his tongue, leering at her. “Must test my wares before selling them, you see. Not the prettiest one, but you’ll do. Haven’t had a redhead in a while. And I like myself a wild redhead.” 

Not trusting herself not to slaughter the man before they learned about his captives, she thrust her arm in his direction, feeling the push and the crackle of the mass effect field being created, and hurled it at the slaver, sending the bastard floating in the air, momentarily divorced from gravity. 

“Were you just talking about me?” Wrex asked, appearing by his side and wrenching the weapon from the pirate’s hand, nearly taking the hand off with it. The next moment from the opposite direction, the surprised face of the slaver met with the wrong end of an assault rifle. Something crunched. Shepard hoped it was just the man’s nose.

“What are you doing?” she stared at Garrus, incredulous - this was something herself would be more likely to do than him. “We need him alive - for a while, that is.”

“I am well aware of that, Commander. He’ll be fine. Sadly, a broken nose will only serve as an improvement on that face.” 

Wrex chuckled at the turian’s response, but did not comment, pulling the now unconscious man down and locking his arms behind his back. Shepard kept looking at Garrus. 

“I couldn’t stand his impertinence any longer,” he finally explained, looking simultaneously angry and somewhat sheepish. 

“No one insults Shepard in the turian’s presence,” Wrex only smirked as Shepard gave the krogan an evil eye: failing to understand, confused, and somehow pleased - evil eye. Did Garrus ..? Was there a hint of another kind of interest besides his loyalty and respect towards her? Or was it something she only wanted to see in those sharp blue eyes? She shook her head. The slaver was coming to. 

“Let's get this over with,” she commanded. She would think about it later, on their way to Normandy, while Garrus would drive. Sitting next to her. Nearly close enough to put her weary head on his shoulder. She shook her head again, more violently this time, and mouthed a curse. “Let's get this over with,” she repeated - mostly to herself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading and leaving comments and kudos, I greatly appreciate that! 
> 
> This chapter happens right after Bring Down the Sky and contains spoilers for the end of that DLC mission. It's a bit angsty - but not just that. 
> 
> Hope you continue to enjoy. :)

Garrus sighed. He decided to finally leave the Mako’s ground-penetrating radar alone. Fixing it and double-checking it was probably quite enough. He had also tended to the vehicle’s armour plates, fully restoring them. The micro-thrusters, the cannon, the machine gun, and the element zero core were fine as well. There was simply nothing else he could do. Yet, he continued sitting in the IFV, staring blankly at the controls. They were not helping him discover what had happened during the last mission. 

***

Shepard had not taken him along on Asteroid X57, and that was fine - he could not realistically expect her to choose him for every assignment. Although he had already got used to accompanying her often. More often than other squad members, he thought. And he relished it - every time he went out in the field with her, he learnt something - about the outside world, about her, about himself. For this task, however, he had not been among the chosen. This time Shepard had come down to the engineering section of the Normandy only to announce she was taking an all-girls shore party out - with Tali bouncing on her feet with excitement next to her. 

“See you later, boys,” Shepard had said with a playful wink to Wrex and himself. 

And now Shepard, Tali, and Liara were back. And Garrus had no idea what, but something had gone wrong - he was certain. After all, there was more than enough evidence for the ex C-Sec agent. The Mako returning battered was not saying much. The Commander not inviting all of them for the debrief after a big mission as was her custom - was. Her silence, her avoidance of him, were telling. 

At some point Garrus wondered if he was thinking too much of himself: yes, she did have a habit of coming to talk to him after most missions - regardless of him being part of the team or not, but she did so with most people under her command. He might have imagined she came for a chat with him more often than with others. Still, not even seeing her for two days after the mission was strange. He felt a weird nagging deep inside - his body, or his psyche, he did not care to distinguish - as if something was missing. And then she finally appeared in the garage. And the only thing she did was talk to the Requisitions Officer. 

Garrus was there, so near, and he felt so starved of any contact with her or any information, that he stared. He stood there looking at the Commander during that conversation, hoping he would get a chance to talk to her next. But having finished, she only cast a quick glance his way, nodded, and left without a word. 

It stung, he discovered with a degree of surprise. 

But he noticed the weariness on her face. And something else. Something he could not yet decipher, but what he did not like. 

He had to find out what had happened. 

***

Speaking with Tali seemed like the most obvious course of action. The quarian girl, untypically, was quiet these days as well, and did not spend much time outside her post - ever watching the frigate’s huge drive core. Garrus prepared a clever plan of intercepting her when she would eventually leave for a meal. 

“Tali,” he greeted when the opportunity finally presented itself. He seemed to have startled her. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she tried to brush him off and walk past, but he remained firmly in place. “Did you need something?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “can I join you for a moment? I need to ask you something.” The girl sighed, as if knowing immediately what it was going to be about.

“I’m not supposed to talk about it.” This was new. 

“Did the Commander order secrecy over the last mission?” 

“No, not exactly. But she did not want to talk about it. Or it talked about.”

“This only makes it worse, Tali. Did you see her today? She looks…” _pained, miserable, and alone_ \- he suddenly realised what her expression had been, “...exhausted, and she doesn’t talk to anyone. I… worry about her.” 

“I can see that,” Tali confirmed. “Why don’t you talk to _her_ then?”

“I…” _Really, why?_ “I’m not sure it’s my place.”

“But it’s your place to question others?”

“Tali, please. I want to help her.” The sincerity and the feeling in his own words startled him. 

The quarian girl observed him for a few moments, her own expression inscrutable under her helmet. 

“She had to sacrifice the hostages.” 

***

He asked nothing else. He knew not what to think about it, without any details of the operation available. But he trusted Shepard. Trusted her judgement. And - more importantly - he wanted the effects that judgement was having on her gone. At the risk of being presumptuous, he went on a campaign to find Shepard that evening, and talk to her - whatever the cost. 

All his immediate obligations fulfilled, Garrus installed himself in the mess - even if the Commander was not going to have any food there, she was at least bound to walk through to reach her private cabin. And when she did, he would be ready. 

“Commander,” he had to scramble to his feet in a hurry to catch up with her - he had nearly missed her slip through unnoticed. Despite her quite in-your-face personality, she was good at stealth, he noted. For a moment she looked like she was about to bolt for the door, but she stopped, and waited for him to approach. He saw her bite and release her lip before she faced him. “I apologise for the intrusion, but I was wondering if I could have a moment.” 

“Is anything wrong?” Her brows - copper red, only a hue darker than her hair - knit in obvious worry. But otherwise, she seemed… not like herself. Cold. 

“I’m afraid it is,” he nodded. She squinted at him briefly, as if assessing a target, and glanced at the few technicians and marines seated around the tables in the mess.

“Come to my office,” she cut abruptly, and headed there without waiting for his response. Garrus followed, utterly unsure this was a good idea. He had only been to her office once - for a further discussion of their mission with four other crew members - and he remembered that the office in fact continued seamlessly into the captain’s cabin. Being in such a private place alone with her seemed wrong… on some level, but exhilarating on another. 

She sat at a round table and gestured for him to join. The only other chair at the table stood too close to hers, so instead of moving it further, he simply rolled it away from the table and turned to face Shepard. He felt scrutinised under her impenetrable gaze. 

“Commander, permission to be honest.”

“I’m not sure I like this beginning, Garrus.” She sounded apprehensive and tired. But she did call him by his name. 

“I’ll take that as the permission given.” He looked down on his own feet before meeting her eyes. “It might not be my place to ask, Commander, but I’ve noticed that you… are not the same since you’re back from the Asteroid mission. I don’t need to know what happened, or what it was all about. I want to know if there’s a way I can help you.” He could see all the signs of her reaction - her chest heaving with heavy breaths, her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide and worried. 

“Help me with what?” she asked quietly. Challengingly. 

“With dealing with whatever happened,” he said, inching a tiny little bit closer in his chair, never losing eye contact. “Like you helped me after Dr Saleon.” She stared at him. Garrus could not know what was going on in her mind, but he thought is was a battle between deciding to throw him out that same instant, or tell him everything. He hoped she would tell. Even if she threw him out afterwards, having found out he already knew some of what had happened. 

She set her elbows on the table and lowered her head into her palms. Her rolled-up sleeves exposed the bare skin of her arms - he caught himself wondering again at how unimaginably fragile human skin looked. But he knew, behind that feeble protection she was tough. Strong. Strong-willed. 

Shepard ran one hand through her short hair, leaving in sticking in different directions. The unkempt sight for some reason made Garrus’ breath catch in his throat. 

“Do you know what happened?” she asked without a preamble. 

“I…” He felt unprepared for that question. But he was not going to lie to her. “I know some hostages died as a consequence of your decision,” he formulated his answer carefully. “I was too worried about you, I pressured Tali into telling me that,” he admitted. Her scrutiny of him continued for a while longer. “I hoped you’d talk to me about it.” 

“I’m a CO, Garrus. I know what sort of responsibility that entails. And I’ve learnt to live with it. But it doesn’t mean it gets easy,” she met his eyes, “letting people die. Choosing for them to die. Seeing them die.”

“Tell me,” was all he said. And to his surprise, she did. Once she started, it became more than just a debrief - her story went beyond just the batarian terrorists. She told him what he suspected she had not imparted to anyone else. That when she had insisted Balak could go ahead and blow up the hostages, she’d thought she had been calling his bluff. Which turned out not to be bluff at all. 

“I killed him. I killed everyone who was with him. But I also killed those hostages. You see, Garrus, I know it was the right decision. I could not let a terrorist, who killed so many, and tried to wipe out a whole city, escape, and do it somewhere else.” She was standing now - having previously paced the room frantically. She bit her lip. “I know I was right to do it. It just doesn’t make it any easier to live with those deaths on my conscience.” Garrus got to his feet to stand right next to her. 

“Shepard, I’ve seen different people in command. I know for a fact you are one of the best. But what matters is you are one of the best people I’ve met, however sentimental that sounds. A fundamentally good person - if sometimes unpredictable and slightly crazy - who has to live with tough choices. I admire you for doing that.” She half cringed - half scoffed at that, and sat on the table, gripping the edge with her whitening knuckles. Garrus perched on the table near her, his right hand boldly close to hers. “For whatever it’s worth, I would have done the same.” She looked up and gave him a weak smile. Then - Garrus was not sure what happened then - but her hand seemed to have landed over his fingers, and squeezed them.

“It _is_ worth something indeed, Garrus.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Have we done that one?” Shepard squinted at a keeper clicking busily at a terminal just as the elevator belched them out into the Wards. 

“At least twice, I’d say,” Garrus replied with a not entirely hidden smirk. 

“How the hell would you even know?” Wrex wondered, instantly annoyed. “They all look the same - and I’m not trying to be racist here.” 

“The keepers are usually assigned to taking care of a particular area, they don't wander around much,” the turian shrugged. 

“Well you just made that sound like it's a fact any whelp should know, didn't you? Citadel boy,” Wrex scoffed. 

“I am no such thing,” Garrus gritted the words through his teeth, a dangerous spark glinting in his eyes for a second. “I’ve only lived and worked here for enough years, I don’t actually come from here,” he added more calmly.

“Who cares,” the krogan said looking him straight in the eyes. 

“Hey, that's enough, you two,” Shepard finally decided to interfere.

“What? I didn't do anything,” Wrex challenged. “Which is exactly the problem. I haven't killed anything in awhile.”

“I regret to inform you not all business on the Citadel involves violence, Wrex.” Shepard sent a crooked smile his way as the krogan stared at her with an expression reeking of the impossibility to comprehend such a lack. To be fair, for a krogan it truly must have made little sense to conclude any business without a single shattered kneecap - or whichever other part of one’s anatomy. 

“So you’re saying I could’ve been on shore leave getting my face drunk like the others instead of just walking around this place?” A grumpy krogan was a seriously menacing sight, Shepard noticed, but she must have had all her instincts muddled up, because instead of feeling apprehensive, she found Wrex’ predicament amusing. For a whole four seconds. 

“Well, actually,” she started, and the krogan immediately perked up, “I only really need to see Captain Anderson for a bit, and find more keepers to scan for Chorban. I’ll be fine on my own. So as of now, you’re dismissed.” 

“If you're sure there’s nothing to kill..,” Wrex looked a little disappointed. 

“See you on the Normandy. Don't get too drunk,” she grinned. 

“Then why have a tab at Chora’s Den?” Wrex shook his head at her disapprovingly. 

“You have a tab at Chora’s Den?” She raised her eyebrows in surprise. 

“ _You_ do.”

“I don’t claim to know how it is in your culture, Wrex, but I'm pretty sure the _Commander’s_ tab and _your_ tab must mean two completely separate things, even for a krogan,” Garrus berated - politely, although she could tell he was annoyed… on her behalf? Shepard became even more amused.

“I know nothing about any tabs, Wrex. But if it's mine, how do they serve you when I’m not even there?” 

“They know I’m with you,” the krogan shrugged as he was turning to leave. Shepard laughed. 

“Remember how I said I was starting to change my opinion of krogans as brutes?” Garrus wondered with a hint of a smile. “I might want to retract that statement.”

“Aren't you going for a drink too? … Or something?” Shepard asked, very much hoping that he would stay. 

“I believe without my assistance you’ll just keep scanning the same poor creatures for the seventeenth time, and you’ll never be out of here,” the turian claimed jauntily. Then his features softened - Shepard enjoyed learning to recognise and interpret his facial expressions a great deal - and he added with a smile, “if you don't mind the company, that is.” 

“I’d love the company,” she smiled back. 

In truth, Shepard had enjoyed Garrus’ company greatly ever since he had joined her team. She respected his expertise, admired his drive and his intelligence. She had learnt to rely on him in battle, and to seek his opinion on important matters - even though it was always ultimately herself who made the choice. But while her high professional opinion of the turian had already been formed, at some point her attention wandered to his personal qualities, and his… features. 

She remembered quite clearly the first time her thoughts of Garrus turned ... unprofessional. Then, having sent him and Kaidan on a simple recon mission, she had come to realise she’d been waiting to hear Garrus’ voice on the radio more than anything. And when she had, she admitted to herself she liked that voice - a lot. No matter what he said. She enjoyed its rich and lovely timbre, not really minding the words. Exactly like right now when she realised Garrus had been speaking to her for a while. 

“... value is often accompanied by a traceable uncertainty statement to a stated confidence level,” he said as if explaining, then crossed his arms and looked at her, the plates on his face arranged into a perfect picture of seriousness. 

“Err, you lost me there, Garrus.”

“I know. I was just checking if the topic of calibrations would bring you back to the present moment,” he smirked. 

“Huh. Sorry, just got lost in thought for a bit.”

“Care to share?” 

“Is that another keeper there?” She strode confidently in the direction she had herself pointed, cursing under her breath as she primed the scanning device in her hand. Why didn't she just tell Garrus? But what would she tell? That she liked him? Found him fascinating? Attractive? She was his Commanding Officer for the time being, and trysts between shipmates were definitely not encouraged in the Alliance. Although Garrus had nothing to do with the Alliance, he was in fact cooperating with her as a Spectre. Right! She was a Spectre! She could do whatever the hell she pleased! 

For a moment, Shepard felt a surge of excitement and confidence wash over her, prompted by the internal pep talk she had delivered to herself. And then she remembered that Garrus and she in fact belonged to different species, and that it would be a good idea to find out what he wanted - if anything - before charging in with her affections. 

***

Together they made easy - if not too quick - work of the task. As it took them all around the Wards and the Presidium ring, they made frequent stops, looking around, discussing the monuments, the different species they came across, and the life on the Citadel. 

“Do you regret leaving this place?” Shepard wondered, stealing a look at Garrus as they peered across a bridge and into the holographic blue sky. 

“This? No! Definitely not. Being on this mission with you beats C-Sec and whatever I did in my spare time - in spades. Or should I say, by a long shot?” he gave a little laugh. She rolled her eyes at his shooting pun but grinned sincerely - she liked the sound of his laughter. 

“Is there anything you miss? Or anyone?” Now that was smooth of her, she was sure. 

“Not really.” He seemed surprised by the question, and offered no further explanation. She would have to be happy with what she got - at least he had not mentioned any turian lady waiting for him somewhere. Or an asari. Or a quarian. Shepard mentally cursed herself for thinking up the nonexistent competitors for Garrus’ attention. “Sometimes I miss my home world,” Garrus continued after a silent consideration, “but not too often. Mostly when you drag us to some particularly ugly place I guess,” he laughed, and she was happy to join him. 

“Is Palaven beautiful? I’ve never been.”

“It is, yes. Hope you get a chance to visit.”

“I’d love to,” she flashed him what she hoped was a mix between a charming and an alluring smile, raising one eyebrow. “I bet you’d make a great guide.” The response he gave her was certainly not flirting, but she appreciated his sincerity. 

“I’d certainly give it my best shot if I was showing _you_ around,” he smiled. “What about you?” 

“Me?”

“Do you miss anything on Earth?” He stood leaning his forearms on the parapet of the bridge, towering over her even in that position. All the alienness of his - quite fascinating - physiology aside, Shepard supposed both turians and humans appreciated at least some of the same features in a male - the tall frame, the inverted triangle of broad shoulders and narrow hips. As he faced her, she regretted the loss of the view of his striking profile, but his gaze captured her attention just as much. 

Before she knew what to reply, Garrus peered into her eyes with his sky-blue ones, his ever-present visor catching a glint of artificial sunlight, and added, 

“Or anyone?” Shepard laughed. 

“No one, no. I got no family, but you probably know that. C-sec and all,” she smirked. Garrus cleared his throat. 

“I did read your file when I was still in the system, I confess. There wasn't much about your past though - military career mostly.”

“Really? No personal information?” She was curious how much was known about her to the authorities. 

“It only said…” she could see Garrus felt uncomfortable, “...that you are an orphan, who grew up in major megatropolises on Earth.” 

“Well that's good to know,” she grinned to make sure he knew she was fine discussing the subject, “not all of my past is in the hands of the Council security. 

“Is there something in your past you want to stay hidden?” Garrus suggested in a voice she could swear _was_ flirting. 

“Oh yes,” she took up the tone to mirror his own and smiled, wiggling an eyebrow. “Lots of naughty things.”

“Oh.”

“In my teens I ran with a gang.” She could read the initial surprise in Garrus’ face, but he stared at her for a few moments longer with an expression she could not guess.

“You don't mind telling me this?” he finally asked. 

“Of course not,” she shrugged. “I trust you, Garrus.”

“Thank you, Shepard. I hold your trust in high esteem. You won't find it misplaced.” 

She wanted to reach out and touch Garrus on his cheek. To find out how his plates would feel under her skin. But she was afraid if she did that she would only embarrass herself. Or worse - scare him off. So instead she looked around and asked the next thing that popped into her head.

“Do you wanna grab a bite to eat? I hear there’s this nice place nearby which serves both human and turian food. Supposedly delicious. And fancy,” she grinned.

“You want to pay for the food in the Presidium? You must be insane,” Garrus laughed. 

“Hey, I’m a Spectre. I’m sure the Council would have a hard time proving I wasn't on a mission,” she winked. 

“I like it when you go all renegade.” Both his words and his guttural laughter sent goosebumps across her arms - it was just as well she was wearing her hardsuit. 

“Then maybe I should do that more often,” she murmured. 

“Maybe you should,” he agreed, leaning a little closer.


	4. Chapter 4

A single shot did not seem to disrupt the jovial atmosphere of Chora’s Den in the slightest. As the human - Shepard’s old acquaintance - slumped dead on the floor, the clubbers did not pay him much attention. 

“Impressive,” said the turian guard who had previously revealed the xenophobic nature of the human prisoner’s crime to them. “Perhaps the first human Spectre will not be a disappointment after all.” 

“Should we… clean up?” Tali asked uncertainly, looking at the body bleeding out from a clean little hole in the forehead. It was a tough thing to do but also… a bold thing to do, Garrus had to admit, just as he had to admit he admired Shepard’s resolve - she had surprised him yet again. Instead of replying, she waved to one of the club's workers, streaming her Spectre status to their omni-tool. 

“We’ll take care of it, Commander Shepard,” the worker nodded. 

“No need, Tali. Seems like my job here is done,” she tried to sound harsh and sardonic, but Garrus’ guess was this incident got to Commander more than she wanted to show. “You have any plans now, guys?” 

“Garrus and I were going to check out a new place serving dextro-amino food,” Tali answered. “You know, one gets a bit tired of eating the same three things aboard the Normandy. Not that I’m complaining,” she added quickly. 

“Wait, you two only get three kinds of food there?” Shepard looked scandalised and angry at this - as she likely perceived it - injustice. 

“We're fine, Shepard,” Garrus interrupted Tali who was about to launch into explanations. “Tali’s exaggerating. It's not like you humans have banquets there every night.”

“No, but… No promises, but I’ll look into it,” Commander said sternly, looking like she was in fact making a promise. 

“Thank you, Shepard,” Tali said softly. Garrus stood there speechless - he would never think the quarian girl was likely to guilt-trip the Commander into getting them better dextro-amino rations. Shepard nodded solemnly.

“You two should go then. Who knows when you’ll get the chance to have some proper freshly cooked meal?” she smiled, but it came out bleakly. Garrus felt it in his guts that something was not right - damn, she had just shot someone from her past dead - of course she was not alright. It would be selfish to leave her alone now.

“Shepard, you…” he started, utterly oblivious of what he was going to say next. “Wanna come with? They don’t serve anything suitable for a human, but maybe we can just grab something there and move on to another place?” Shepard seemed a little surprised by his suggestion, and looked at Tali, who stood there quietly - but her tiny bounce betraying her excitement.

“No, thank you, Garrus. I’m not hungry anyway. But I’m sure there’s someone here I can have a drink with,” she grinned - he did not believe that smile, because it stopped at her lips, never reaching her eyes. He was nearly settled not to leave the Den. He just needed to figure out how not to offend Tali. Damn him for mentioning that new place to her - he had only managed to complicate things. 

“A drink, you say?” a breathy voice announced Liara, who flowed in, all curves and smooth talk. “I’ll be happy to buy you one, Commander,” the asari smiled - most would say enchantingly. Garrus thought it was plain annoying. 

“Liara,” Shepard greeted - at least she did not show too much enthusiasm, Garrus thought. Damn, what was wrong with him? “Let’s have it then. See you guys later,” she waved him and Tali off, “have fun!”

Garrus now had to go do something he did not want to do in the slightest, while the woman he wanted to spend his time with more than anyone was about to have drinks with a sexy asari who made no secret of her attraction to the Commander. What an idiot he was.

***

After all her scanning before and toxicity check-ups after, Tali leaned back in the flimsy plastic chair. 

“This was quite good actually,” she stated, satisfied. “I imagine yours, which didn’t come in the form of a paste, was even better,” she gave a little laugh. 

“Yeah - yeah.” Garrus nodded, absent-mindedly stabbing at the remains of the in-fact very tasty steak with his fork. Tali gave such an audible sigh, that - had her helmet not been equipped with separate breathing tubes - he was sure it would get all fogged up. 

“What’s wrong with you, Garrus?”

“Nothing. I… Actually, I gotta go.”

“Already? What about the dessert?” she asked indignantly. “They have the turian chocolate cake. Paste.” 

“You have it,” he stood up abruptly. “You know what? Have mine as well. I’ll get the bill. Enjoy.”

“Hey, you’re not going anywhere, Vakarian, until you tell me what the hell just stung you in the ass.” Garrus was shocked enough to sit back - apparently, a whole new level of Tali’s personality surfaced when something stood in the way of her enjoying her chocolate cake. Paste. “Aren’t we friends?” she asked simply, having ordered two portions - one of an actual slice.

“What? Why are you asking, Tali? Of course we are.” He was utterly confused. He did not know how to deal with one woman - the one he could not stop thinking about - damn you, Shepard - and now there somehow was one more he utterly failed not understand. 

“Where do you want to go, and what is so urgent about it?” she shoved a dessert fork into his hand as his slice of cake appeared on their table, and proceeded to scan her dessert - just in case. He really did not know what to tell her, and he did not want to have that conversation at all because he already felt as uncomfortable as he was likely to get. 

“I wanted to find Shepard.” 

“Find? You know where she is - having drinks with Liara in Chora’s Den.” Suddenly, she gasped. “Is that why you want to go?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Because Shepard is with Liara?” He said nothing, but felt his mandibles twitch a little in irritation. Unfortunately, Tali noticed. “I knew it!” she exclaimed accusingly. “You’re jealous of her!”

“What?” Garrus realised he must have sounded a bit rude. 

“You’re attracted to Shepard. Liara’s attracted to Shepard,” the quarian shrugged. “She’s just more open with her advances than you are.”

“Advances?!” When had he ever done anything towards Shepard that could be called that? 

“You really like her though, don’t you?” she insisted. He froze in place, deeply uncomfortable with this digging inside of himself in front of someone else. But Tali was right, he knew. He nodded silently.

“Why don't you tell her?”

“How do you imagine that happening?” he laughed, and it sounded bitter and not at all amused.

“Oh I'm not an expert. But you could start by… giving her a compliment. Or a gift. By helping her with something. By having lunch. Or seeing a vid together.” She spread her arms excitedly every time a new idea popped into her head.

“And you are _not_ an expert?” he chuckled. “I don't know what to give her. Or to tell her.” He set his elbows on the table and lowered his head into his palms. As he looked up, his crest almost scratched Tali’s visor - she was leaning in too close to him. “Sorry.” 

“You could try just being yourself. I think she likes that already,” she reached out and squeezed his forearm. 

“And why would you think that?” he asked, as casually as he possibly could, well aware of the nervous flutter in his chest.

“Oh come on. You get to go on almost every mission with her.”

“As does Wrex. And you.”

“She doesn’t look at _me_ the way she does at you. And definitely not at Wrex.” Garrus did not manage to suppress a chuckle. “The way she talks to you, and laughs at all your jokes,” Tali continued. 

“Are you saying somebody doesn't laugh at my jokes?” He might have felt wounded if he had not been so pleased. 

“You know what I mean. Keelah, just go to her. Talk to her. Be with her.” Tali’s enthusiasm mounted with every sentence she uttered, which sounded more and more like she was quoting the Fleet and Flotilla. He would hardly admit to that, but he in fact knew she partially was. “Support her. But don't make her feel weak or incompetent.”

“She’s nowhere near weak and is the opposite of incompetent,” Garrus felt his blood rush through his body as he jumped to Shepard’s defence. “She's smart, and brave, and honest, and funny, and skillful… she’s… amazing,” he suddenly realised he had never voiced those thoughts before - not even to himself.

“Do you think she's pretty, too?”

“What?” Garrus cleared his throat, trying to catch up with all the new information and emotions pressing on him from all sides. “I… yes, I guess I do.”

“Tell her that,” Tali squeezed his hand, forcing him to look directly at her, even though he could not see her eyes. “Tell her all of that.”

“I think I’m gonna need a drink first. Or five.”

***

Back at Chora’s Den, it was easy to find Shepard - only she was in no condition for a serious conversation. Although he had doubts about how serious that conversation was actually meant to be. 

“Garrus!” she lifted a near-empty bottle in a tipsy greeting. He knew she could hold a drink - so how much had she had already? “Come join me! Did you know I have a tab here?”

“Shepard,” he sat next to her. “Are you alright?” She nodded enthusiastically. “Where’s Liara?”

“She left. We had a ...misunderstanding.”

“What happened?” She shrugged, and downed the rest of the liquid in her bottle. 

“I told her I didn’t like her _that_ way.” Damn. Damn Liara, and damn him, and the poor timing. 

“Would you go for a walk with me?” he suggested calmly - at least he thought he appeared calm. She studied his face, her expression somewhat sad - if he was not misreading a human face again. 

“Sure,” she finally said. “Just give me a moment. Lady’s room,” she pointed her finger in the wrong direction. He corrected her navigation and stood waiting, arms crossed, nerves tied in a knot. 

“Ready to go?” she asked with a smile, having reappeared right in front of him a few minutes later. He could see she had washed her face - some of the strands of her copper red hair framing it were completely wet, and her skin looked… fresh and attractive in its paleness. 

“Sure.” 

“Where are we going?” She sounded like she had somehow managed to sober up. 

“It’s a… surprise, of sorts,” he said, and his heart jumped when she smiled at him. They walked on and took the elevator, swapping a few wry remarks on the news being broadcast.

“The Presidium? Not exactly my favourite place on the Citadel.”

“I think you haven’t seen all of it yet to judge,” he smirked, and led her towards the remotest nook of the beautiful park that belonged to the embassies. 

“So how was it with Tali?” Shepard asked, her voice suddenly sounding more… aloof? 

“Fine. It was nice. We… had a great talk,” he smiled, “I’m glad we did it. Tali loved the cake,” he added with a little laugh, “shame she couldn’t have mine as well.”

“Oh,” as Shepard tried to smile back and largely failed, he noticed her body tense up and her lips - the upper more prominent - thin into a line. She briefly looked away just as they arrived where he wanted to take her - a secluded spot full of trees and grass and even a few flowers, with no one occupying it. “I,” she looked about, as if not really paying attention to the beauty of the surroundings, “I didn’t know that you two… But I’m glad for you,” she finally raised her eyes to meet his, “really.”

“What?” He was so shocked at her false conclusion that he barely even realised it when he grabbed her arm to stop her from turning away and slid his hands down to grasp hers. She stared at her hands firmly held in his and then finally faced him - eyes huge. “Shepard,” he started, his voice low, each sound he made thrumming excitedly in his throat. “You misunderstood. Tali’s just a friend, a good friend. But you, you are more than that.”

“O-of course, I’m your Commanding Officer, I-I understand,” she nodded, a bit of the tipsy stutter back. 

“Oh shut up, Shepard, won’t you?” he pleaded, never letting go of her hands. “I want you to be more than that, and I want to be more than a shipmate and a friend to you. I like you, very much. As you. Not just as Commander Shepard and first human Spectre, but you. The woman, the person you are. If you’ll have me, I’d be honoured to be something more to you.”

“Garrus,” she exhaled, her eyes darting across his face for a moment, before she flung herself towards him, threw her arms around his cowl, and pressed her cheek to his. And his arms were on her waist, and her hair soft and feathery on the skin of his neck, and then - then he was kissing her. Without knowing if he was doing it right, without caring much, he touched his mouth to her lips, and she answered - even more than he had hoped, her wet tongue teasing, flicking against his. He became aware of the rumbling sound he had been making the whole time only as they parted for breath. 

“Does that mean you sufficiently like me too?” he smirked. 

“Yes. Definitely,” she grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Would love to hear what you think. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter contains some spoilers for the Virmire mission.

Shepard had never thought that this mission, which propelled her across the whole galaxy after a rogue Spectre, would turn into something of this magnitude. She had had her fair share of battles and conflicts and tragedy. She had fought and won, had fought and lost, had fought and become the sole survivor. But this… this was so much more than she had ever experienced. 

In their chase after Saren they had destroyed an ancient sentient mind-controlling plant on Feros, saving few colonists (the loss of the rest Shepard could not afford to grieve); they had fought and seen an asari Matriarch and mother of one of her companions die on Noveria - but had released the Rachni Queen, refusing to commit genocide. And now they were in Sentry Omega - Shepard’s first time in that border cluster between the Attican Traverse and the Terminus Systems, on a lush world of Virmire. 

They were to extract the information about Saren from a salarian reconnaissance team. Shepard knew, felt it in her guts, that they were close, just on Saren’s heels, and she was itching to be done with him. Although in recent weeks a new thought had started popping into her mind. What was to come after they completed the mission and stopped - one way or another - Saren? Were herself and her current crew to go their separate ways? But most of all, she wondered anxiously about Garrus and herself. 

If she was pressed, she would admit that yes, they were definitely going against the Alliance regulations - what they had going was fraternising if there had ever been one. After that slightly blurry drunken kiss on the Citadel, Shepard and Garrus had spent even more time together than before. And now it was no longer filled with tiptoeing around certain topics or clumsy attempts at flirting and terrified uncertainty of whether they were even on the same page. Now both had relaxed - to a degree. There were still plenty of awkward movements and misinterpreted gestures and struggles to just find that right position for simple things like a kiss or a hug. And it had been… damn, it was good. Shepard was not much for romance - or so she believed - but with Garrus she felt giddy like a teenager. Even though they had not yet gone beyond… hmm, she wondered whichever base what they had done was called nowadays. But what was certain was they had not had proper sex yet. And it made her a little antsy. 

Oh she wanted him, and was sure the feeling was mutual, but the complexity of the logistics of it, paired with the tension of their recent missions, seemed to have put their attempts on hold. Shepard did not exactly mind: she was surprised to discover how much she enjoyed simply Garrus’ company when they snatched some alone time, and how exhilarating and even scary was the fact that she did not feel disappointed at the lack of complete physical release as the tension kept piling up. It could really mean something. What if she did not only “really like” Garrus? What if it was more? 

“Are you ready, Shepard?” Tali’s question returned her to the present. They were about to take the Mako out, carrying the three of them onto the surface of this magnificent-looking tropical paradise of a planet. Only in Shepard's experience, no place looking like paradise actually was one. She rubbed at her knitted brows, and waved off the worry of what was to come: the easiest way was to go and see for themselves. She jumped in next to Tali - the quarian in the driver’s seat this time.

“Let's go,” she commanded and turned to dart a quick half-smile at Garrus at the back. His mandibles flickered slightly in return. 

***

“This is so stupid,” Shepard complained loudly, prising a Geth Pulse Shotgun from the huge bulk of a dead geth destroyer.

“Mhm, what is?” Garrus wondered as he picked up a spare load of ammo from the remains of a geth sniper. 

“This,” Shepard spread her arms, and refrained from waving the shotgun around to emphasise the surroundings she wanted to point out. “This is… beautiful. This world should be inhabited. Or even better - not inhabited, but rid of the fucking geth and fucking Saren. So I could come here and enjoy. The bastard has good taste, that much I’ll admit, in choosing a spot for his base,” she huffed, annoyed. 

“Yes,” Garrus mused, looking around, “I guess our rogue Spectre has a sentimental streak.” To Shepard's questioningly arched eyebrow, he explained, “This place does look - and feel - like home.” Shepard halted in her rummaging through crates stood by the stairs of the gatehouse. It had never occurred to her that Virmire might remind Garrus of his homeworld. 

“If Palaven is anything like this, it must be gorgeous,” she smiled, unexpected and uncalled for images of Garrus and herself on a secluded beach popping into her mind. She cleared her throat as her imagination quickly switched the scene from the two of them enjoying fancy drinks to enjoying purely each other. This was not the time for hot fantasies. 

“Well, it's even better.” Was it just her or did Garrus nearly murmur the words? “Minus the geth,” he shrugged with a half-cocky look. 

“Are you forgetting the quite deadly radiation of your home planet?” Tali chipped in. 

“Oh come on, Tali, no need to… whaddaya call it, storm on my parade.” It was a shame Shepard could not see Tali’s facial expression, but her pose with one hip jutted out and her head tilted spoke volumes in itself. Shepard chuckled, without trying to correct Garrus’ misuse of human idioms. “Turians are well adapted to the radiation anyway, as you well know. No one pays it any mind really, it's like…” He suddenly froze in mid-sentence and darted a look at Shepard. His features betrayed what she read as a possible mix of confusion, sudden shocking realisation, and… mortification? Wracking her brain in search of potential causes for Garrus’ unease, Shepard stifled a gasp just as she signalled their return to the Mako to continue further towards the base. 

As she padded through the serenely clear ankle-deep water, Shepard bit her lip wondering if what Garrus was thinking about was how it would be to take her with him to Palaven. In any case, it looked like now this was the only thought rooted in her own mind. Well, that and what would happen on that beach…

“Let's go. We got more geth to kill,” she commanded, hoping she sounded impassive: the distraction was proving too much, and she made a quick mental switch from the possibly-in-love Jane - wow. Was she?? - to the focused, hardy, nerves-of-steel Commander. 

***

Two more gatehouses later, as well as plenty of geth of all shapes and sizes, including the armatures and even a few colossi, they had finally deactivated the AA tower, allowing for the Normandy’s unhindered approach to the salarian camp. Looking up, Shepard blinked at the blinding flash of light catching on the ship’s slick form as it coursed overhead. Funny how the frigate had suddenly become something so big in Shepard's life. She had served on other ships for longer but had never felt that… warmth? Connection? Or was it simply possessiveness - this girl was not simply currently the best Alliance's starship, it was _her_ ship. And Shepard had learnt to treasure her. 

“Our radars are suspiciously not picking up anymore enemies,” Tali chimed, flowing her fingers gracefully over the Mako’s control panel, giving a boost to the shields recharge. 

“We might've just killed them all,” Shepard snorted snidely. “Gun it, Tali.”

However good it felt to be approaching their destination, to be so close to Saren’s base - and thus to destroying it, and himself, once and for all - meeting Captain Kirrahe of the STG was not an exercise in pleasantry. She was not prone to drama, but what they had learnt led to possibly one of the worst experiences in Shepard's life: a friend pulling a gun at her. 

She knew his reaction was instinctive and to be expected and in a way even justified - but even though she stood straight and unflinching and her lips drew into a hard line and her hands did not shake as her own shotgun nearly kissed the barrel of Wrex’s, she did crumple and tremble inside with both fear and rage. But that was all over. Wrex was still with her, still loyal, still on her side. And she would continue to trust him with her life. Because she could not do otherwise. And because she could not think of bringing anyone else but Garrus and Wrex with her on the mission ahead. 

This day on this beautiful beach of a planet became dangerously close to a clusterfuck with the news of Saren breeding an army of krogan, and only Shepard's squad and a handful of salarians being the full force that was going to undertake the assault on the massive, heavily fortified and armed base. Besides, one of her crew would have to leave to help out Kirrahe. Shepard sighed, standing alone inside a tent pitched right on the white-sanded beach, wiping her face in the heat. If only stripping out of her armour and dipping into that tantalisingly clear water was an option. 

“Hey,” there was a familiar accompanying polite little cough, “am I disturbing?” 

“No, Garrus. I'm glad you're here,” she allowed herself an honest smile that was more weariness than pre-battle focus. He lowered the flap of the tent behind him and strolled to the makeshift desk filled with marked maps she was leaning on. Without having him wonder at what to do, she stepped towards him and allowed - if not offered - herself to be pulled into a hug. 

“It's been quite the mess,” Garrus said into her hair, and she nodded. “I’ll just repeat I admire you for how you handled that.” She lifted her eyes at him and made a pained grimace.

“He’s my friend.” Garrus nodded his understanding. “And he still is,” she added. He lifted one hand from her back and dug his long gloved fingers into her hair, lightly massaging her scalp. She moaned barely audibly when he followed the faint trace of sweat on the back of her neck, but turians’ hearing was good enough. 

“Shepard,” Garrus whispered, lowering his head to touch his forehead to hers with a sigh, “I was worried for you there.”

“I’ll give you plenty more reasons to worry, Garrus.” She smirked at her own inability to hold off a snide remark. Then, her throat suddenly parched, she looked straight into his intent blue eyes and uttered nothing short of a command, “Kiss me.”

His mouth plates pressed against her lips immediately as if he had only been waiting for the invitation, and his quick tongue found its way inside her mouth and wrapped around her tongue, and pulled, and flicked teasingly at her lips, his hands roaming her back and her thighs, and meeting only the barrier of her armour shifted in frustration to her bare neck, tracing her jaw, ghosting over her ears. She gave an unrestricted moan. 

“You’re damn good at this, Vakarian,” she said huskily. To hell with Saren. There was only one turian she wanted to deal with right now. Garrus was panting heavily, and him shifting his weight from one leg to the other was enough indication that their activities did not leave much room for him in the codpiece of his armour. 

“Shepard,” he only said as an equally possible plea and reproach. Then something suddenly flickered across his eyes and his expression changed to that worry. His hand went up to her face. “Shepard, are you feeling alright?”

“What?” She was too confused to be any more subtle. “Why?” 

“There seems to be…” he turned her face left and right, holding her gently by the chin, examining. “You’re having some kind of skin reaction.”

“What?” She was not getting a prize on eloquence today. “I can't feel anything wrong,” she said, fumbling with her omni-tool to bring up a silvered screen which turned a small patch of her gauntleted arm into a mirror, “except being hot. And bothered,” she mumbled, giving Garrus an accusing stare. When she finally had a chance to take a look at her face though, she burst out laughing, immediately covering her mouth - this was not exactly the right time for unabashed joyfulness. 

“What is it?” Garrus sounded slightly annoyed at her dragging out the explanation. “Are you ok?” _My_ , Shepard thought, _he is actually worried_. 

“I'm sorry, Garrus, I’m fine. These are just freckles.” His eyebrows went up in question. “These little spots - they're perfectly normal.” 

“But how come you haven't had them before?” he insisted, as if still unwilling to let go of his guard, his willingness to have her safe. Her stomach fluttered. 

“They're always there, but they only become visible after my unprotected skin gets a fair amount of exposure to the sunlight. The more time I spend in the sun the more prominent they become.”

“Can they be dangerous for you?”

“Well, not really. I mean I just need to protect my skin, which I normally do. It was just so nice to breathe not through the helmet for a change here that I didn't pay attention.” 

“I suppose not all humans have them? I don't think I’ve ever seen them before.”

“Well, you see, I _am_ special after all,” she laughed. “I have those rare genes for humans nowadays - you’d be hard pressed to find a green-eyed redhead anymore. Used to be a lot more common a mere hundred years ago.” Garrus’ mandibles twitched as he gave her a smile.

“Like there wasn't enough special about you.” He closed the short distance between them in one stride and kissed her again - deep, lingering, and a little demanding. She never wanted it to stop. “Thank you for a lesson in fascinating human biology,” he finally said, his voice low, smooth and inviting. 

“Care to learn even more about it?” she purred, and just like that they were back to their funny kind of flirting - innuendos strung together with passion, need even, but laced with a bit of insecurity, a trace of trepidation. 

He looked at her, long and hard, as if deciding on the spot if he was ready to commit to whatever this - they - would end up becoming. He nodded slowly. 

“Yes.”

And that single word threatened to rip something in the very depth of Shepard. _I love you_ , the thought suddenly, shocked. She kept breathing though, and looking at him, and as she stepped nearer, craning her neck to look up into his face, she said - in an easy, sultry tone, 

“I’ve been learning a lot about turian biology myself. I think I know just about enough for you to show me.” 

“I’ll be happy to.” His eyes closed before they even kissed, and her heart lurched as she allowed herself to let go for a moment and give all of herself - to him. 

“Commander Shepard?” Kirrahe was outside the tent, waiting patiently and politely for her attention without trying to enter through the lowered flaps. 

“With you in a moment, Captain,” she put the military note back into her voice having cleared her throat noiselessly first. She looked at Garrus grinning, cupping his face in her hands, running her fingers over his plates and off along his crest and then right under it at the back of his head. He stifled a groan. 

“It's gonna be one hell of a reason not to die,” he murmured with a smirk. She laughed soundlessly and kissed him on the ridge of his nose before leaving the tent. Everything - the assault on the base, the weight of responsibility for her squadmates and for the success of the operation, defeating Saren himself - felt somehow lighter. Manageable. Only a step. 

Shepard felt driven by a new force.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who read, commented, left kudos - it means a lot! It's been a blast writing these two, and if you've enjoyed it, you might like my other ME stories too, so check them out. :) I'll be writing more of them as well - I haven't had enough Shakarian yet!


End file.
